


Held

by flippyspoon



Series: Black Leader and Big Deal [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Finn backstory, Finn's messed up childhood, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, affection-starved Finn, give this stormtrooper a hug for the love of Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 19:28:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5796973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippyspoon/pseuds/flippyspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn tells Poe about his first memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Held

“There was this droid…” Finn mutters. He’s sitting next to Poe in a grassy clearing, in a woodsy little area outside the base where the Resistance goes to relax and get their collective heads out of the game for a few minutes of peace.

Poe was talking about his mother. Shara Bey, the Resistance hero, who had died when Poe was eight. Poe has spoken of her a few times in the couple of months Finn has known him, and each time he does, he gets a funny smile on his face. Finn suspects it’s the smile Poe wore as a little boy. It made Finn think of a particular droid. But now as he mentions it, his stomach clenches up. No, it would ruin the afternoon to talk about that, and he’s having a nice time.

“What droid is that, buddy?” Poe says.

“Oh...I forgot what I was going to say.” Finn shrugs and Poe looks at him, suspicious.

_ Please don’t push it right now _ , Finn thinks. And Poe doesn’t.

Instead they sit in companionable silence. Finn wants to let himself lean against Poe. First choice would be Poe’s arm around his shoulders, holding him there, sure and solid. But Finn doesn’t know what the rules are yet. It’s easy enough to throw your arms around somebody in moments of high emotion. But they’re just two buddies sitting there in the grass. Finn wants to fit in.

“Sometimes I think you’re holding out on me, ya know,” Poe says.

 

* * *

 

FN-2187’s first memory is a blinking pink light hovering above him. He’s lying on his back and the pink light pulsates; slow, slow, quick-quick-quick. For years he associates the light with a feeling of intense relief and sometimes in moments of high stress as a trooper he closed his eyes and thought of the light. Even not knowing its origin, he finds it calms him. Or it did, until years later, as a young cadet.

Age is vague for him. But he thinks he was about nineteen when The Finalizer was sent to a First Order base on a planet called Sogglin in the Ilum system. All FN-2187 knew at the time was that they were picking up fresh recruits. Which made sense, because having lived on the Sogglin base for around sixteen years himself, FN-2187 already knew that it was where the children were raised, pre-trained, and conditioned to be ready for life as a stormtrooper. It’s a massive base and FN-2187 has heard it referred to multiple times as “the First Order’s greatest asset.” It’s also one of their darkest secrets, which is why it’s in the Unknown Regions. 

Finn follows orders. They march off the Finalizer and into a huge hangar where around five-hundred young people are lined up in their crisp white uniforms; a graduating class. Only there’s no ceremony outside of one simple stern speech by the base commander assuring them of their promising future and the gratitude they should possess for the First Order.

Except there’s a problem.

“I was told there were a thousand troops graduating,” Phasma says rather sharply to the commander when he finishes his speech.

They get into a spat that, for them, is probably par for the course. Standing at attention next to them, FN-2187 thinks he’d rather take his chances with a busted airlock than go toe to toe with Phasma. 

“FN-2187,” Phasma barks.

“Yes, Captain.” He turns on his heel to face her.

“General Hux is surveying the base. Find him. Now.”

FN-2187 snaps to and, directed to the Natal Wing by an officer at the door, runs full-speed to the other side of the base. The place is one giant labyrinth. FN-2187 grew up there, but still has no sense of where anything is and he has to ask directions several times, preferably of passing droids. Each wing corresponds to a different stage of development for pre-cadets. Most of FN-2187’s earliest memories begin in the PCTX Wing for children aged three to ten. That’s the third stage, after Natal and Post-Natal. FN-2187 has no memory of any life before the First Order. For all he knows he was brought directly to PCTX at three or four. In rare moments of fanciful thinking, he likes to imagine that he was brought in a little older rather than as an infant, that what he has forgotten are the few years of a happy family life before the First Order took him away. If those memories exist, they can be brought back and he’ll have a new truth in his mind of a happier time, a time when he was loved. Sometimes when he can’t sleep, he strains his mind trying to remember. But all he sees is the blinking pink light.

“Captain Phasma sent me for General Hux.” FN-2187 speaks with authority, brooking no argument.

The guard posted at a heavy durasteel door in the Natal Wing nods and punches a code to allow FN-2187 inside.

FN-2187 steps in and, taking a look around, he freezes. For a moment he can’t remember at all why he’s there. He can’t think of anything.

The room, if it can be called that, is so big that FN-2187 can’t see clearly to the other side. If he shouted, they would not make him out. And in every direction there are durasteel cribs. And in each crib there is an infant wrapped in white. The room is clean, cool, and sterile. Tall, smooth grey droids are moving slowly here and there amongst the rows of infants, strictly organized. FN-2187 spots General Hux speaking to one of the Natal Wing staffers.

He takes three steps and glances down into a crib where a pretty brown-eyed infant waves their arms, crying. The name-plate says “KE-0007.” 

FN-2187’s mind is blank.

Find the General. That’s his task. 

But his eyes betray him and take a good look at the droids.

They’re shaped vaguely like humanoids; a tall oval torso with curved arms and an ellipse of a head. Their arms, FN-2187 notices, are quite flexible and rubbery for droids, rather than metallic. He sees why, watching a droid loom over KE-0007 and pick them up.

FN-2187 steps closer and watches the droid swaying slightly. The droid doesn’t speak, but it does emit a regular sort of purr that calms the infant. 

That’s when FN-2187 notices the pink light pulsing from the ellipse of the droid’s head.

Slow, slow, quick-quick-quick.

FN-2187 hears something like a roar in his head, the sound of nameless horrors. 

“General Hux.” He marches forward, to complete his task. “Captain Phasma requires your assistance.”

On his way out, following the General, FN-2187 sees the droid place KE-0007 back in their crib. A cylindrical bottle pops out from the side, bearing a rubber nipple and the infant feeds.

Slow, slow, quick-quick-quick.

* * *

 

It’s time for bed. But Poe likes to stay up a little bit later than he should. Finn is tired but he hates to go to sleep before Poe if he can help it. He feels as if he’s missing something. All this seems as if it could go away at any time. So while Poe is squatting on the floor, fidgeting around with BB-8’s mechanics, Finn busies himself with a data-pad, reading up on the Resistance’s intel as far as First Order influence as he sits back on his bunk in his Resistance-provided pajamas. 

Finn glances over at Poe who closes a compartment on BB-8 with a satisfying click.

“How’s that?” Poe says.

BB-8 rolls their dome around and bleeps approvingly. They’ve had a bit of a crick in the neck lately.

“Okay, Beebs.” Poe pats them on the dome. “If you pop over to supplies and get some oil, I’ll give ya a quick polish before bed yeah?”

BB-8 about loses their mind at that and speeds right out the door, almost knocking into it before it slides open with a whoosh.

“You’re a good droid dad,” Finn says, smirking a little as he inspects a holo-map of the Outer Rim.

“Ha. Thanks. I do try.”  Poe gets to his feet and stretches with a groan. “You can go to bed before me, ya know.”

Finn only shrugs, a bit embarrassed that Poe has noticed this pattern.  “I’m not tired,” Finn says, just as he begins to yawn.

Poe outright laughs at that. “You sound like a kid.”

“I’ve never been a kid,” Finn mumbles. Poe changes into his pajamas and Finn distracts himself, turning off his data pad and setting it carefully on the nightstand.

Poe doesn’t respond. Maybe it’s too strange a statement for him to respond to. But there’s too much freedom in this place. It gives Finn the space to break wide open, and the thought is terrifying and tempting.

Finn sits atop his blankets, hesitating before he commits to sleep. Poe stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed. 

The problem with Poe Dameron is, you can’t get a thing past him. This has been true since their very first meeting. He’s empathetic on a level that makes Finn wonder if he’s got that Force thing going on.

“What’s up, buddy?” Poe raises an eyebrow, expectant.

Finn only shakes his head. Which even he knows is Finn-code for:  _ I want to talk but I don’t know how. _

Poe responds just as he’s supposed to and plops down on the bunk and says, “You know, Finn, whatever you need… If you can tell me what it is, I’m going to try to give it to ya.”

“Why?” Finn turns his head and knows the answer, give or take. But it will be nice to hear it straight out.

“Because I’m your friend,” Poe says firmly, looking him right in the eye. “And I care a lot about you. And you deserve good things.”

Finn nods, and consider this, playing with his fingers. “What’s your first memory? As a kid, I mean? The first thing you can ever remember?”

Poe looks pretty surprised at that. He sits back and takes a deep breath. “Well...now… I’m not sure of the very first. But I remember being about two…and my mom laying me over her arms?” Poe stretches his arms out in front of him to demonstrate. “And she held me up and ran around? Flight, ya know. And...I remember her laughing. And the sun really warm on my face.”

Finn takes a minute, tries to get the image indelible in his mind. If he can’t have his own good kid memories, he might as well swipe them from Poe. “They played with you a lot, your parents?” Finn says. “And they held you a lot.”

Poe nods. “When I was very little, they were gone more than they wanted to be. Til they mustered out. But yeah, generally yeah. And when they weren’t around there was my mom’s sister, my aunt Tarla. She took care of me sometimes. You gotta meet her someday. And their parents, and my dad’s mom…”

“That sounds nice.”

Poe claps a hand to the back of Finn’s neck. “Finn.”

“There was this droid…” Finn clears his throat. “The first thing I can ever remember is the pink blinking light on this droid. In the First Order there’s a big base where they raise the kids they take. I grew up there and... the babies are all in a room and these droids go around… I heard some stuff about it later… I don’t remember everything. The droids rotate through the babies and pick them up and rock them for a minute and put them back down.The first thing I remember is the pink light on one of these droids.” He feels Poe squeeze the back of his neck. He clenches his fists, focusing on the nails digging into his own palms. “What I heard was that when they started taking infants, they didn’t have anyone pick them up and hold them. They just fed them and made sure they were healthy. Eventually they figured out that the babies needed to be held or they’d get sick or not develop well. So they built droids to do it. Made them to mimic something vaguely...parental, I guess. Human-like. Even made their arms soft and warm. So the droids just move from crib to crib. Pick up a baby, hold it for a second, move to the next crib. I used to remember that pink light and it made me feel better if I was scared about something… I didn’t know why. And I found out later what it was and now I…” 

Finn finally looks up at Poe, hesitating. It’s all too dark and too sad, he thinks. How could Poe possibly even know how to respond to stuff like this?

But Poe’s fixed gaze is unwavering, even if his eyes are watery. “Okay, buddy,” he says, “here’s what we’re gonna do-”

He’s interrupted by BB-8 who whizzes through the door, a cylinder of oil clutched in one extremity. BB-8 rolls over to Finn’s bunk and tilts their dome at Poe, hopeful. 

“Aw… hey, Beebs.” Poe nods towards Finn. “Finn here needs my help. It’s very important. Okay with you if I polish you up in the morning? I’ll do a  _ really _ good job.” 

BB-8’s dome spins in Finn’s direction and they bleep and bloop rapidly.  Poe says, “BB-8 is worried about you.”

“I’ll be okay,” Finn says. “I just… if I could borrow Poe for a bit…”

BB’s dome tips forward in affirmation and they bleep bloop before rolling to into the corner where they sit, fixed, their lights dimming slightly signaling a low power mode. Poe lays his hands on Finn’s shoulders. He looks about as shaky as Finn feels, and that’s a kind of comfort.

“We’re gonna get em’, Finn,” Poe whispers. “We’re going to take them down.”

“But the kids,” Finn says with a catch in his voice. “We have to save em’, Poe. They’re just like me.”

“We will.” Poe leans his forehead against Finn’s. “We will. I promise you.”

Finn clutches at Poe’s pajamas, thinking of all those nights in his bunk when he’d imagine arms holding him only to feel more alone when he could not will them into reality.  His mind spins a little, frantic. 

“What do you need, buddy?” Poe says. 

For a moment the truth of Poe Dameron hits Finn abruptly and he leans back, taking a good look into those loving brown eyes.

_ He  _ would _ do anything for me _ , Finn realizes.   _ He would take down the whole damn First Order by himself if it was physically possible. _

Happily, Finn doesn’t need that right this second. But what he does need he finds difficult to ask for. “Poe…Please...” He bows his head. Poe would never laugh at him for something like this. He knows this by now. But he’s choking on the words. “Please hold...h-hold onto me.”

Then, as if Poe was just waiting for the go-signal, there are arms encircling him and holding him tight. Poe kisses his brow and his hair and they stay like that, embracing for so long they might have fallen asleep that way, especially with the slow circles Poe traces on Finn’s back. Eventually Finn breaks away and clambers under the covers, laying on his side and gazing up at Poe, asking. But Poe’s moving already, climbing into bed and spooning up behind Finn.

“I got you, buddy,” Poe murmurs. “We got each other. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Finn says, closing his eyes and relishing the puffs of warm breath on his neck. “Good.”

He imagined this so many times in the Order, at night alone in his bunk, with an intensity that only made him ache, and now he inwardly catalogues every detail; Poe’s hand holding his against his chest, and the swell of Poe behind him when he breathes in and out, and his dreams replace a pink light with warm brown eyes as he is held.


End file.
